Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
by Lorelai Grint
Summary: DH: It's Christmas time at the Burrow but it doesn't seem it'll be a merry one.Ron's away with Harry & Hermione, Percy still isn't talking to his family & even Bill says he'll stay home with Fleur.Mrs. Weasley cracking..how will Ginny & the twins react?
1. Part One

**Author's Note: **I got inspiration to this fic from the Christmas song "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". This is only Part One - I hope to update quite soon. Thank you for reading!

**Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas**

**by Lorelai Grint**

Part One

'Well, Bill really isn't coming for Christmas', Mrs. Weasley said putting down the letter that Bill's owl had just brought and leaving out a sad sigh. 'It wasn't enough that Ron is only Merlin knows where with Harry and Hermione, now Bill decides – or better said, _Fleur_ decides – that this Christmas they want to spend it alone. Anyone else wants to be away for Christmas?', she completed to her two twin sons and only daughter.

'Is that an actual offer?', jumped Fred. 'Because I might take –', Mrs. Weasley's deadly look made him stop mid sentence. It was the day before Christmas Eve and the four of them had been on the kitchen eating something for lunch. Everyone else was still at work; only Ginny was on holidays and the twins had decided to close the shop one day earlier due to the frantic humour of Mrs. Weasley. Despite being Christmas, one day wouldn't really hurt the business – it was going extremely well in spite of the difficult times.

'Look on the bright side, Mom -', George started.

' – if there is one', Ginny interrupted, her gaze lost outside on the back yard where they all used to play Quidditch.

'Look on the bright side', George repeated. He was quite fed up that no-one would ever cheer up over anything at all these days. 'You see, we haven't got Percy this Christmas yet again. Think of it as compensation – you don't have Bill and Ron but you don't have to take up Percy's gigantic head either!'

Mrs. Weasley appeared to be on the verge of either bursting into tears or smacking George's head with the first thing she could put her hands on.

'Failed, mate', Fred answered. 'You better give it up, it's useless these days'.

A knock at the door drove Mrs. Weasley out of the kitchen, leaving the twins alone with a not so satisfied Ginny.

'You two are really stupid sometimes, do you know that?', Ginny let out.

Fred and George exchanged surprised looks.

'Come on, Ginny, not you too. We were only kidding –'

'Exactly!', Ginny yelled. 'Well, some things aren't meant for kidding!'

'Oi, Ginny, now you're starting to sound just like Hermione!'

'Oh, right – and where is she? And how about your brother?'

'Where is Harry, you mean?', George retorted bitterly, a killing look through his eyes. 'It's not _our_ fault you fell in love with _the Chosen One_, little sister', he said in a mocking tone.

'You git!', Ginny pulled out her wand.

'HEY', Fred bellowed. 'Don't you even DARE! Just stop it, will you? And _talk_ to us', he completed with a disgusted look on his face. Clearly, that was not his favourite way to solve the matter. _'I must have grown up!'_, he thought scornfully to himself.

George stared at him in apparent shock. 'Really? You just said _that_?'

'Rather I let her Bat-Bogey Hex you?', Fred grinned. 'Go ahead, Ginny, do your best work'.

Ginny stood in the middle of the kitchen, a motionless living doll. It took her a while to finally speak, her eyes sparkling.

'You don't care'. Her tone was definite. 'You two don't even want to know. They're somewhere out there risking their butts everyday to save all of us from _him_ and you don't care!'

Fred and George were so caught by surprise it took them a few seconds to react. Then, at the exact same moment, a bitter disbelieving laughter echoed from their throats.

'You _are_ kidding me!', George exclaimed. 'You can only be joking!'

'Are you _mental_, Ginny?', Fred asked, not so understanding anymore.

'You think we don't care?'

'Ron is out there – not to mention we're not even sure he's still alive – and you say we don't _care_?'

'Do you know us, Ginny? Seriously, do you, at all?'

Fred's question made Ginny blush out of embarrassment. He took that as a good sign.

'Of course we care. Of course we're worried. He's our brother too, stupid', Fred concluded rather more softly. Simultaneously, George moved closer to Ginny and stroke her hair.

'I know you have Harry to worry about too, but so do we', he murmured. 'Even Hermione… she may be a pain in the ass sometimes, sure; but we love her as much as we love Harry. So don't act all _mental_ on us, okay?'

'It's not the same, George', she sobbed. Instantly she pulled herself together, her strong look upon her face again.


	2. Part Two

**Author's Note: **Thank you very much for your kind reviews :) they are most appreciated! So here is Part Two; it isn't very long at all, but I needed a "bridge" here to get to the next part. I promise it'll be longer (however, I believe shorter but more regular updates would please you most - but let me know if it is or isn't so on your reviews please! Thank you - now, onto the story!)

**Have Yourself a Merry Little**** Christmas**

**by Lorelai Grint**

Part Two

'It was only some Muggle girl saying she and her friends will come carolling later on', came Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen, completely unaware of any alteration in her children. 'Wonder how she found the house…'

'Do you think we have something to worry about?', asked Fred in a concerned tone. Mrs. Weasley stared at him. If Fred was considering the situation as potentially dangerous, perhaps it would actually be better to take extra measures.

'Not really, no', Mrs. Weasley replied. 'But maybe it's better to give your father a word…'

'Yeah, good, Mom', George was rushing through words. 'Listen, Mom, you're all right in here, yeah? Dishes and all – it's all covered, right?'

'George, I'll talk to your father first, yes? Why are you worrying about the dishes anyway? You never do.'

'No reason, they're just funny little things sometimes, aren't they?', George kept at the same rushed pace. 'So give us a shout if you need any help after Dad, yeah? Thanks, Mom.'

With that George pushed Ginny out of the kitchen, leaving an utterly bewildered Mrs. Weasley to pick up some Floo Powder in order to talk to her husband through the kitchen's fireplace.

'Never care about helping me out any other time of the year, do they...?', Mrs. Weasley mumbled on her own as Fred followed his siblings out of the kitchen.


	3. Part Three

**Author's Note: **So last update was very, very tiny; somehow I felt I needed a transition and couldn't have done it otherwise. However, I hope the length of this new chapter makes up for Part Two. And with no further ado… here's Part Three :)

**Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas**

**by Lorelai Grint**

Part Three

George shoved Ginny onto the sitting room couch, finally allowing Fred to see his sister's face. Her eyes were completely red, her cheeks entirely wet. She had been crying hard though so silently that neither Fred nor Mrs. Weasley had seen it. Only then did Fred realise Ginny hadn't looked at either of the twins or even Mrs. Weasley once she had come into the kitchen.

'Talk', George said sharply.

'What do you want me to say?', Ginny uttered feebly, staring at the window.

'For starters you could stop staring at windows', Fred mocked. 'It's beginning to be an annoying habit of yours'.

Ginny's dirty look clearly intended to somehow set her brother on fire.

'What? Going to Bat-Bogey Hex me? Come on, Ginny! _Speak_!', Fred continued.

'And say what? That I'm worried? That I _hate_ this? That I feel – feel… that I feel _tired_ of it?'

'YES', George cut her sharply. 'That's exactly what we want you to say. Say whatever you want but talk to us. You always have!'

'This is different!', Ginny squeaked.

'Why?'

'Because it's Harry-?'

'No', Ginny mumbled.

'Then _what_?', the twins were giving up hope.

'Hermione's the one I talk to about these things. And she talks to me about – well, about _her_ things –'

'Ron', the twins interrupted in unison, rolling his eyes.

'No', she continued, uneasily. 'Her things, _period_'.

'Right', George rolled his eyes back at her. 'Well, past our brother's dull love life – please do proceed with your thoughts, darling sister of ours'.

'How can you still be so laidback with everything that is going on?', Ginny exclaimed. That actually amazed her – and the fact that she was making yet another detour in the conversation did not displease her either.

'Well, it's the way we are, innit?', Fred smirked. 'What did you expect?'

'I don't know', Ginny was being honest; once her brother had put it like that, she really wasn't that sure how she had expected her twin brothers to change due to the war. 'But now it's different, isn't it? Not such a great time for laughter and all'.

'Then it is a great time for what? For anticipated crying for all that might happen? For ducking your head in the sand and wish for the best?', George asked half seriously, half joking.

Fred nodded in effusive agreement. 'Wouldn't that be worse – and even a treason for Harry, Ron and Hermione? They're risking their lives for only Merlin knows what plan!', he was clearly being carried away by theatrical drama, which did not pass unnoticed to his twin brother.

'Fred's writing a dramatic novel, too', George teased. 'His biggest inspiration was Celestina Warbeck's discography'. Fred smacked his forehead. 'OI! You git', George shoved Fred aside, rubbed the spot he had hit and continued on 'but that was actually kind of the point, minus some embellishment'.

'You laugh and joke about everything, still', Ginny tried to make some sense out of that ranted conversation, 'as an homage to Harry, Ron and Hermione and – well, the_ war_?

The twins' face lit, red covering their overexcited cheeks (and, in George's particular case, his forehead joined in, too).

'That makes us sound _so_ cool', Fred beamed.

'Really does, doesn't it?', continued George. 'Almost as if we're martyrs, too!'

'Exactly', Fred finally looked at Ginny. 'But no. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly what we meant'.

'It has a bit to do with what we were trying to tell you earlier on in the kitchen', George's tone was now more serious.

'We still joke and all –', Fred started.

' – about everything and nothing –', on went George.

' – because, well, we kinda need to'.

' – and so do you –'

' – and Mom –'

' – and everyone, really'.

'If not, what's left? And where are we going to find what it takes to fight, to deal with things?', concluded Fred. 'It's difficult out there'.

'You mean you use jokes and laughter as a defence mechanism?', asked Ginny.

The twins seemed thoroughly outraged.

'How dare you?'

'That makes us sound like wimps!'

'Do we look like wimps, George?'

'We most certainly do not, Fred. We're almost as notable as… Healers'.

'Precisely', Fred stared into Ginny's eyes, somewhat devilishly. 'We're laughter Healers'.

'Very, very prestigious work. And tough, too'.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brothers' performance but giggled openly nevertheless, clearly more upbeat out of their mad rant.

'Now, we're not stupid, you know?', George retorted.

'Are you gonna talk for real or not?', Fred questioned her, a defiant look in his eyes.


	4. Part Four

**Author's Note:** So here goes, Part Four of «Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas». I would just like to take this momento to thank everyone's who read and to wish a very Merry **BIG** Christmas to everyone! :)

**Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas**

**by Lorelai Grint**

Part Four

Ginny had always loved the Christmas decorations in the Burrow. Even the ugly gnome that had played the part of the angel for the Christmas tree in the previous year had gained a special spot in her heart. She was the Christmas type of girl.

Fred and George had excelled themselves this Christmas by finding the most exquisite Christmas decorations for their family house. Real fairies outside glistening – just as seen in the Yule Ball – made a real show out of their backyard by night. Lately, Ginny used to sit by her bedroom window watching them until she felt tired enough to obligate herself to fall asleep. Nevertheless, she could never manage to feel that warmth in her heart, the one she would usually always feel by this time of the year.

Looking around the sitting room, glancing at the marvellous colourful bright Christmas tree, the fireplace cracking with the sound of the chestnuts Mrs. Weasley had just put there and the gigantic Snow Man the twins had bought, she felt cold. Christmas didn't even mean that much to her anymore – and, in truth, that kind of troubled her. But how was she supposed to tell this to Fred and George?

The twins were watching her intently, apparently considering whether they should be concerned or not by their sister's frozen posture. Ginny felt startled by that.

'What's wrong with you two?'

'With us?', Fred let out a shaky giggle. 'It's not us who are standing there looking demented!'

'I'm not looking demented', Ginny replied angrily. 'I was just thinking'.

'Blimey', George sneered. 'It's that much of an effort to you?'

'I really am going to murder you two someday', Ginny's eyes made her words all more believable.

'Fantastic! You're really getting into the holidays spirit!'

'Perhaps our lifeless heads could even take the place of the angel on the tree!'

'Well, mine definitely could. Not so sure about yours, though; it's kinda damaged goods, ain't it? No ear and all…'

When George made to strangle him, Fred yelled. 'No, you can't! It's Ginny who's going to do it, remember?'.

They both stopped fooling around, sat each on each side of the couch and motioned Ginny to sit between them. Fred tapped the couch. 'Here, little girl, talk to Uncle Fred and Uncle George!'. So maybe they didn't cut fooling around completely; however, they were doing their best.

Ginny sat but stayed silent. Fred and George exchanged swift looks, apparently deciding on the best technique. Then George made his first move.

'So you miss Harry!', he stated. 'Go!'

'What are you doing?', Fred asked, positively alarmed. 'That wasn't what we had decided!'

'No? Seems like this telepathic thing isn't working properly anymore'.

'Nice and easy, mate', Fred shrugged. 'Yours was more of a Hippogriff-in-crystal-store approach'.


	5. Part Five

**Author's Note****:** Christmas was hectic and so was the New Year... and the result was me not updating. I am sorry and I'm even considering leaving this fic for now and finish it next year - since Christmas's over now. But let me know what you'd prefer - and I hope you enjoy Part Five! ;)

**Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas**

**by Lorelai Grint**

Part Five

'Actually, even a Hippogriff would have been more delicate', Ginny concluded rightfully, rolling her eyes once again.

'Isn't it the truth, though?', George retorted. 'Don't you miss him?'

'What do you think, gnome head?', Ginny exclaimed, her voice a couple of octaves higher than usual.

'Then what did I say that was so indelicate? Enlighten me, will you?'

'This isn't easy, George!', Ginny finally gave in, standing up while two single tears escaped her eyes. She immediately rubbed her cheeks with both hands, drying the infamous drops.

'Nobody said –', Fred got up as well, meaning to comfort her but she interrupted him.

'It's not that', Ginny continued, somewhat more quietly. 'It's not that I think that you all think it is easy. I know you know it isn't –'

'She's going to lose me if she says 'think' or 'know' one more time, really', George whispered to Fred.

'You feel the same things – or very similar things – on your own skin', Ginny threw a dirty look at George before uttering the next words. 'But this is too much. I know I have to be brave and I want to – even for Harry, you know', she blushed slightly. 'Only right now… at this time of the year…'

Ginny stopped, looked around at the living room and all of its exuberant decorations. She couldn't help but think once again that Fred and George had really exceeded themselves this time. The twins exchanged worried looks, their expressions stating the same impotence: as truly as they wanted to comfort Ginny, they were lost for words and both knew there wasn't that much they could do to relieve her sadness.

'I miss him', Ginny took a deep breath. 'And I miss Ron and I miss Hermione. I hate that they're not at Hogwarts. I hate it that they left without me. And I hate it that it's Christmas and none of them is here. It's useless. All of this', she raised her arms around. 'All of the lights, the decorations, the presents – it's all useless without them. And I hate it because I love Christmas – but I love them and it just – just…'

She came to a halt, teardrops falling from her eyes yet again and more strongly. This time she showed no intention to wipe them away.

'Here', Fred dried her cheeks with his own hands and hugged her. Though he had expected Ginny to put up a fight, she left herself go into his embrace.

'It'll be OK, Gin', George ran his fingers through her hair. 'Take my handkerchief –'

Ginny suddenly raised her head from Fred's chest, staring disbelievingly at George. 'You really think I'm going to fall for that again?'

'What? Oh, no – come on, Ginny, this is my good handkerchief. A very regular one – ordinary, even. No invisible oil in the middle, no sneezing powder in it, no punching colour pigments, I swear'.

Ginny stared on.

'And no spell or charm or any other kind of magic or Muggle misbehaving whatsoever. Cross my heart', George frowned. 'Will you just take the frigging thing now and blow your nose? It's starting to revolve my stomach'.

'Oh, _now_ Miss Delicate has arrived', Fred joked.

Ginny laughed feebly.

'Listen, I know it's different without them. Especially given this past year's _events_', Fred coughed teasingly. 'But we're here, all right?'

'Christmas is about family, after all', George stated wisely. 'Well, to me, personally, I always thought of it more as a magnificent opportunity to blow up more interesting things – remember the Christmas pudding when we were ten?'

'Ah, those were the days!', Fred said reminiscently. 'Well, but yeah – family and stuff –'

'- that's what we always hear about Christmas, despite our personal credo'.

'And we're family', Fred concluded.

'Genius, mate', George poked him. 'Are you for real? _We're family_? She would never have figured that one out by herself!'

'What I mean is', Fred continued solemnly, 'we're going to make this Christmas memorable to you. Even if we can't give you – well… Harry.'

Ginny's eyes were all of a sudden murderous. Fred held her to a close embrace again. 'Christmas, little sister, Christmas! And it _will_ rock!'


End file.
